MATURE FANTASY** slow burn* 🔥 He is a predator who thought he captured an ordinary girl... but her mind is sharper than any of his claws.
Ariana lives in the shadow of her monstrous father in a world barely held together by a treaty. Until her l...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Kole noticed I was not feeling well while we walked from the execution. He took me to a window for some fresh air. We were in a hall just outside the room where Fraser's body lay as it grew cold on the floor, on full display before the Lysians.
Was that the destiny of my family's bloodline? To die bloody and by execution? Both of my parents had perished in such gruesome ways, that it seemed only right that I would eventually meet the same fate.
The thought only made me feel numb.
I threw up out the window, thankful that no one was walking by. Were I in a better mood I may have felt a pang of guilt for there was no way a Lysian's keen nose would miss the pungent smell of vomit. But I was not in a better mood and did not care for anyone else's discomfort. Not when for some reason I felt so horribly empty.
"You going to be ok?" My personal prison guard asked while standing next to me. Concern flickered across his face.
"Fine" I grumbled, righting myself. I didn't want the pity of a Lysian or anyone.
Kole hadn't seemed to believe me, evident by his prominent frown.
Slowly, we walked back to my prison room. My legs were unsteady beneath me, as if on the verge of collapsing. When we arrived, Kole remained in the small sitting room while I went to my fancy prison cell. As soon as I entered, there was an awfully claustrophobic sensation that traveled through me, despite the generous size of the room. Feeling trapped, both physically and mentally, my breathing turned quick and shallow. Again, I found myself going for the balcony door and opening it. A breeze instantly surrounded me, cooling my clammy skin. I took a deep breath, feeling my panic slow and muscles relax. Gradually, I lowered myself, taking a seat on the floor outside. The stone ground was cool and soothing against my skin.
An odd numbness enveloped me. The feeling was so pungent that it pushed out everything else, leaving a profound emptiness. In that moment, if the entire world ceased to exist, I don't think I would have cared. My core hollowed out and left was a shell of the person I was.
My mother's murderer had been slain. It was a moment I dreamt of nearly my entire life. Typically, they were my favorite dreams, and acknowledging that made me feel as though I truly was my father's daughter. What kind of twisted soul replayed someone's imagined last breaths over and over, as if it were their favorite lullaby?
